


Fowl Play

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Airports, Angst, Community: xfficchallenges, mulder is an idiot, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Mulder was supposed to pick up Scully from the airport but he doesn't show up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fic is Medicine Challenge over on tumblr.

She shouldn’t be surprised that Mulder is late. Last week when she asked him to pick her up, rattling off reasons why it was more practical, he grinned, chewing a sunflower seed, saying he’d be there. So far, though, he hasn’t shown.

Part of her expected, had hoped, to see him there when she walked out, with a stupid sign and a smile. For once, she would have liked to see a familiar face there, someone who was waiting for her; someone whose face lit up when they saw her. Someone who cared.

Scully adjusts the watch on her wrist, checking the time again and again because there is nothing much to do. Her bag sits at her feet, waiting, ready to be picked up and taken home. She wants to go home. Take off her sticky pantyhose, eat something substantial, talk to Mulder. That last thought surprises her. 

If she’s honest with herself - and right here, right now, where no one knows her, where people just run past her, she feels vulnerable, feels the need to confess - she missed Mulder. Misses him. Three days without him and she can’t wait to have him around her again, towering over her, invading her personal space, his eyes searching hers just to make sure she’s there, with him, listening. It’s been three days and the longing to see him, touch him, is tangible. 

It’s time, she thinks. Time for her show up but also time for her to tell him, show him, how she feels. This past year, Mulder has told her that he loves her - though she’ll cling to the fact that he was drugged at the time -, has surprised her with a baseball date, has taken her to a haunted house just because he wanted to spend Christmas with her. Now it’s her time. 

Before she left, when they said goodbye, Mulder asked her to wait a moment. He walked past her, his familiar scent whirling all around her and making her dizzy, to pull a bag of sunflower seeds out of his coat pocket. His hand was warm as he gave it to her. ‘In case you get hungry or miss me’, he’s said, a low chuckle accompanying his words. 

When she boarded the plane, her cell reception was too bad to call him. There was no message from him when she landed and now, twenty minutes after he should have been here to pick her up, she’s torn between annoyance and concern. He could be stuck in traffic; there could have been an important meeting, a case, anything that kept him longer at the office. Only if that were the case, he would have called. 

Scully checks her phone again, waits for it to blink, to display a message. There is nothing. The phone is quiet in her hand. It’s been twenty minutes and she just wants to get home so she presses the speed dial for Mulder. When did he become number one, she wonders as she listens to the dial tone, to the silence on the other end.

No Mulder. Not here, not picking up his phone.

It’s been three days. The last time she talked to him was yesterday, around noon. They made tentative plans to speak again in the evening, but she fell asleep, and Mulder didn’t call.

What, and she can’t help but think it, if something has happened to him? The thought manifests in her mind as her eyes fly through the crowd, searching for the one face she wants to see. She can almost hear his apologies, taste his urgency to get here, to get her, and not be too late. But what if… she swallows. She tries his phone again, only gets his answering machine. 

“Hey, Mulder, it’s me,” she says, watching other people in pairs, smiling, leaving and arriving. “I’m at the airport and I thought you were picking me up.” Pick up, she thinks, pick up, pick up, pick up. Nothing. “Call me?” She hangs up, glancing about, checking the time.

After an hour with no Mulder and no message, she decides to leave. Her bag is heavy in her hands as she gets a taxi. She gives the driver Mulder’s address instead of hers, needing to check on him. Needing to see him, to know what’s happened. Her stomach twists into a knot as her eyes blindly stare out the window. 

She uses her own key to get into Mulder’s building, feeling like an intruder. The elevator is musty but she’s alone and she’s thankful for that. She drags her bag to Mulder’s apartment and pauses. The key is still in her hand. Something makes her reconsider and she knocks - twice. There’s movement on the other side of the door, quiet, but discernible. Scully takes a step back, her heart pounding, uncertain which emotion will prevail once she sets eye on him, and waits.

“Agent Scully.” Diana Fowley, her hair messy, her face devoid of make-up, and her blouse gaping, stares back at her. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you going on a trip?” 

“I’m-,” she stops, words escaping her, as she puts two and two together. Mulder and Diana. Her state of dress says it all, no further explanation needed. Scully’s knees buckle, the knot in her stomach twists tighter and makes it hard to speak. 

“Who is it?” Mulder’s voice asks from somewhere inside the apartment, faintly, but healthy. There’s nothing wrong with him. He didn’t have an accident, hasn’t been waiting for her. Not at all. He didn’t miss her. Not one bit. 

“It’s Agent Scully,” Diana sing-songs without taking her eyes off Scully; a smile plays around her lips, one that says she’s won. Scully didn’t even know they were playing. 

“Oh shit,” Mulder’s voice becomes louder, surer, “what day is it?” A door slams shut and Scully startles. 

“Do you want to leave a message? I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight.” 

“No, I- it’s not important. Tell him… tell him…” There’s nothing to say. Not anymore. Scully picks up her bag, feels the tears in her eyes and throat, hot and angry. She won’t cry here, in front of Diana. The other woman. Three days she’s been gone. Three days. She was wrong before; this isn’t their time. It never was. It never would be. 

“Tell him thanks for the sunflower seeds.” With that, Scully leaves.


	2. Common Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who commented and asked for a second part. Here you go.

She doesn’t speak to him all night. Her phone rings, rings, the sound more desperate with each try. Mulder leaves several messages on her answering machine, begging her for forgiveness, to please hear him out.

She doesn’t.

At some point, late at night, he gives up. When the phone falls silent for the final time, Scully is certain she still hears phantom rings every once in a while. He is wise enough not to show up at her apartment. Or scared enough or… too busy. Either way, he gives up, leaves her alone, figures she probably needs space and sleep. She does. Her sleep, however, is restless and by the time she wakes up, she craves coffee. Her mind syrupy with sleep, she almost forgets yesterday’s events and Mulder.

But not quite.

She deletes all of Mulder’s voicemails on her answering machine and on her cell. With a sigh and a sense of reluctance, she leaves for work. There’s not much traffic on the way to the Hoover Building and she’s thankful. It’s been a few days since she’s last seen Mulder. Last night, she heard his voice, but there was only Diana with her messy hair, skin smooth and glowing, clothes loose. The image is etched on her mind, doesn’t leave her as she goes through the motions and steps on the elevator.

No one but her is going to the basement. But what, she wonders, worrying the button on her jacket, if Mulder isn’t alone there this morning? Her treacherous mind reminds her that she left Mulder with Diana last night. Who is to say she’s not down there now, too, taking Scully’s place? Seeing them together as an intimate couple is one thing, to be pushed out of her workplace is another. She takes a deep breath when the elevator stops and opens. It’s quiet down here. There’s no talking to be heard, no laughter.

The loudest sound as she makes the short way to the office is her own heart, pounding in her chest. The door is ajar and without knocking, she pushes it open. Mulder, as if waiting for her, lifts his head and smiles at her, guilt written all over his face.

“Good morning, Scully.” He gets up, takes a few steps towards her, and stops. There are two coffee cups on his desk, still steaming. She can’t tear her eyes away, wondering if one of them is for her or for Diana. “This is for you,” he says, picking up the cup and offering it to her. “I know I screwed up yesterday.”

Screw, she thinks, being the operative word.

“Please, let me explain. It’s not at all what you think.”

“Explain?” She finds her words again, finally. “What is there to explain, Mulder? What you do – or who you do – in your free time is your choice. I asked you to pick me from the airport and you said you’d be there.” Scully swallows hard, remembering that day. They’d been smiley and flirty, like they’d been so often lately. He’d invaded her personal space, his face so close that she could smell him, a tease, his whole demeanor another kind of promise. Another one he broke.

“I know and I’m so sorry. There was this case and I-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I didn’t sleep with Diana,” he blurts and she raises an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t. If that’s what you think. It in no way makes up for forgetting to pick you up but I wanted you to know that.”

“Like I said, Mulder. What you do in your free time is your own business. I’d just appreciate if you could keep your promises.”

“I don’t want it to be just my business.” He takes another step forward and Scully takes a step back. Mulder stops, stares at her, and the hurt in his eyes is unmistakable. They’ve been here before, at this peculiar crossroad, a few years ago. This time there are no rose petals and the pain sits deeper, has taken root. There is no bruise on her face, this time, no battle scar. The trauma a silent one, having only left a dent in her heart.

“Mulder, please, I need time.”

He nods, takes a step back. When his eyes meet hers, there is naked pain. This time, he won’t ask. All because I didn’t pick you up from the airport? No, this time he understands.

“I can give you time. I- I just want you to know one more thing,” he pauses for a second before he goes on, “I missed you, a lot. I couldn’t wait to come pick you up. I had… I wanted to ask you out to dinner. I wanted… to ask you for a real date and I, I screwed it up. Again, I know that. But I wanted you to know that, too.”

Speechless, Scully stands there, the cup of coffee in her hand, staring at Mulder. He’s running a hand through his hair, making it stand up. Her mouth opens without any words coming out. A date. A real one. They’ve been on plenty of dates, unofficial ones. Their impromptu baseball lesson the biggest step forward, lately. He’s been asking her out to lunch more often, finding his way into her personal space at any given moment. The sunflower seeds he gave her before she left for her flight, days ago. A promise, a first offering. She should have known then. Maybe she did. A date. Mulder wants to go on a date with her.

“But you and Diana-”

“We were working, Scully,” he says with emphasis. But in the end, they’re just that, just words. He didn’t show up. No matter how much he claims that he missed her, that he wanted to see her and take her out on a date, he still let her wait, didn’t call, didn’t do anything. All these little things, these nuggets he’s been throwing her lately, just anomalies. The exception, not the rule.

“I can see you thinking,” he says, his voice laced with sadness. “You’re rationalizing what I’ve just said. One date, Scully. That’s all I’m asking. I’ll explain everything to you.”

“There’s nothing to rationalize, Mulder. Nothing to explain.”

“How can I make you believe me?” Suddenly, he’s there. Standing in front of her, slightly hunched over so that their faces are close. His breath comes out in puffs as if he’s been running to the finish line, agitated. “Tell me how.” She tastes his words and she doesn’t get the chance to answer him because his mouth falls on hers, open, pleading with her to let him in.

Against her better judgment, she does.

Her fingers tangle in his hair as their lips glide over each other so smoothly that she’s taken aback. There’s no hesitation or awkwardness; it’s a perfect match. Mulder’s tongue teases her, slides over her bottom lip, and when his hands on her back start roaming, his hold on her tightening, that’s when she feels like she’s suffocating. This is what she wanted to happen yesterday. Tired after a long flight, after missing Mulder, she’d let her fantasies run wild. They would have found each other in the crowded airport, a pair of matching, relieved smiles, and a first, passionate kiss.

This kiss, this desperate groping to prove a point, is not what she wants.

“Stop,” she says, her mouth still against his, their lips sticking to each other.

“I’m so sorry.” Mulder jumps back from her, wiping his lips, shock on his face. “I- I wanted – I couldn’t… shit, Scully.” He’s staring at her, at her lips, where her lipstick must be smeared, where the evidence of their kiss must be evident. She takes a step back herself and realizes she’s at the door, solid against her back.

“This is not… I can’t be here right now, Mulder.”

“What do you mean?” She ignores the panic in his voice as she opens the door and walks away. Right now it seems like her only choice.

Mulder doesn’t follow her, but she disappears into the restroom anyway, just to be safe. Though she knows that Mulder wouldn’t care. If he wanted to, if he felt it was important enough, he’d follow her here. She thinks about him, his lack of social protocol, as she stands in front of the mirror. Her eyes are huge and glassy with unshed tears. She won’t cry. Her hair is out of place; when did Mulder do that?

As she dabs at her lips, getting rid of the evidence of what’s just transpired, it hits her. They’ve just kissed. She should have known that their first kiss would not be devoid of drama. Still, she didn’t want it to be like this. Looking at her reflection, she can’t help but think of Diana. The way she saw her last night. She compares her own appearances and can’t help but wonder. Last night, did Mulder kiss Diana like this? Did he do more than kiss her? She’s chosen to trust what she’s seen, what she could deduct from the scene as it played out before her. In the end, she must decide: believe Diana or believe Mulder?

Knowing that she can’t hide in the restroom forever, she checks that her lipstick is back in place and once she’s certain, she steps out. Her heart is pounding until she realizes that Mulder hasn’t been waiting here for her. She can’t help the slight pang of disappointment. As she makes her way through the hallway, she hears voices getting louder and louder. It’s Mulder. She’d recognize him anywhere and the other voice is…

“What do you want, Diana?” Scully stops when she hears the name and remains hidden so that they can’t see her. She peeks around the corner, her curiosity greater than her fear of what she might witness. Mulder stands close to his former partner and lover, but not in the same way he stood close to Scully earlier.

“I thought we could, you know, get to know each other again. You know that’s what I want, Fox.”

“I told you it was important to me. I told you I had plans.” Scully gulps and is no longer sure she should be eavesdropping. This is about yesterday, about her. But she can’t move away, not now. “Scully thinks I-”

“She doesn’t know you, Fox.” Diana puts a hand on his chest and Mulder, in a calm manner, almost as if in slow motion, removes it, but holds her hand in his. Scully looks at their hands, at the grip Mulder has on Diana. It’s not gentle or friendly; he wants to make a point.

“She does know me. She’s my partner, Diana, and I intend to keep it this way.”

“Oh? Just your partner then?”

“This is not a conversation I’ll be having with you.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“I thought so too,” Mulder says and Scully believes she sees a sad smile on his face; no matter how often he claims not to trust anyone, to want to keep to himself, he wants to believe. He wants to believe that the people who mean something to him won’t screw him over. She can’t help but feel for him. “Now excuse me, Diana. I need to see A.D. Skinner.” Diana’s hand falls from his and he stomps off without looking back. Both Scully and Diana follow his lean frame until it disappears behind a corner.

Before Diana can catch her, Scully turns on her heels and makes her way back to the basement office as quietly as she can. Having heard the conversation between Mulder and Diana, Scully knows the office will be vacant. All she wants to do is pick up a few files, write Mulder a quick note to tell him she’ll be working from upstairs when her eyes fall on a filled out form on Mulder’s desk. She picks it up, fearing the worst.

But it’s not at all what she expected.

Official request, it reads, and Scully’s hands shakes as she goes on reading, to take Special Agent Dana Scully on a date. He’s filled it all out. His badge number, hers, today’s date, it’s all there. She smiles in spite of herself. Who would do something this silly? Mulder, of course. The remark section is a small, rectangular box and Mulder has used it as well as he could, his words spilling over.

“This date is needed in order for Special Agent Fox Mulder to profusely apologize for not picking up the aforementioned Agent Scully from the airport. She will pick the place, the time and the date. Agent Mulder will agree to everything she proposes. Every little thing.”

P.S. Agent Mulder is aware he’s screwed up and all he can promise is that it will happen again. But never on purpose.

He’s signed it, too, and Scully picks up a pen, staring at the form. She’s not forgiving him, she thinks, as she puts pen to paper. She wants to give him a chance. Wants to give them a chance. What she saw yesterday, obscured by what Diana wanted her to see, is not the truth. They need to find it together, as always.

“Meet me tonight at 8 p.m. – sharp – at my place. Bring pizza.” She signs her name and leaves the form where she found it. Now all she’s got to do is wait.

*

Mulder doesn’t call her all day. The lack of contact is unnerving and more than that, Scully can’t help but miss him. She’s been missing him for days. Absent-mindedly she touches her lips where he kissed her earlier. It already seems a lifetime ago.

The clock says 7.58 p.m. and Scully sits in her kitchen, waits. There’s a glass of wine in front of her, barely touched. She takes it in hand and takes a big sip, reveling in the taste. The clock moves forward. One minute to go and she’s convinced he’s not going to show.

She can’t take her eyes off the clock. She watches the hand move, move, move until it arrives at the top again. It’s 8 p.m., everything is quiet. Just as she’s about to lift her glass again, drink and forget, she hears a knock on her door. She gets up, her bare feet not making a sound on the carpet.

“Who is it?” she asks, hoping her voice isn’t as shaky as it feels.

“Your favorite pizza guy.”

Scully smiles and opens the door.


End file.
